


No Such Thing as a Bisclavret

by ThatFerryBroad



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canonical Character Death, Drama, F/M, Gore, Harm to Animals, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFerryBroad/pseuds/ThatFerryBroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stiles is a seemingly completely harmless, spaztastic werewolf who seems like he’d do more harm to himself than anyone else. But when the full moon’s present and all up in the sky being all bright and shiny and beckoning all the monsters and beasts and nightmares of the night to come out, the kid’s crazy strong. Crazy vicious. He’ll take someone down without a second thought, if it’s needed. He won’t kill needlessly, that’s not his thing, not at all, but he’s protective of himself and his dad and of Scott and those he considers his family. Anyone who tries to harm them, it’s time to put an end to that particular problem.</p><p>Usually isn’t not difficult.</p><p>[The hunter Derek Hale is] proving to be a far larger problem than Stiles is used to."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soufre

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Avengers and indirect spoilers for Season 1 and possibly 2.
> 
> Written for Ms. Gryz as per [this](http://msgryz.tumblr.com/post/31345454482) prompt. This will be SLOW burn romance, for many reasons. The surname "Moion" originates from the French ["de Moion"](http://www.surnamedb.com/Surname/Moon). For ease of prose's sake, the Sheriff has been named Ashton after the actor playing him. This story operates under several mechanics. The first being that Werewolves do not come into their powers until puberty, the second being that if there are non-wolf pack members, a beta will stay a beta regardless of the absence of an alpha as illustrated by Derek's line to Scott that he "already had a pack."

 

No Such Thing as a Bisclavret

Chapter 1 - Soufre

 

            Dried leaves rasped through the open hospital window, most tumbling into the hall. They left a few brothers in the spokes of a wheelchair, but the occupant did not stir to remove them. No more leaves disturbed the distant beeping and muffled voices, but a groan rose from his lips. He closed his mouth around the sound, trying to massage it into the word hovering at the borders of his consciousness. His dry tongue flexed ineffectually against the scarred edge of his mouth, his lips dry with seven and a half years of sleep. His swallowing reflex kicked in as he slowly blinked. The swish of freshly laundered scrubs accompanied the soft rhythm of footsteps from the leaf strewn hallway. One crunched underfoot as the nurse made her way to the window.

 

            "Sorry for that, dear, it was so much warmer this morning." She murmured absently, barely glancing at him. She turned instead to pick up the leaves, stacking them in one hand until the twitch of his own stopped her mid-reach. Her eyes trailed up his arm, across the scars that peeked out from the gown, up his burn-crumpled neck and to his shaking lips. Hesitatingly, she finally met his focused eyes, a query dying before she could ask as he uttered a few sparse, stuttering words.

 

            "P-pounding... deafening..."

 

             "Mister Hale?"

 

             "Fire... Thunder..."

 

             She ran for the head nurse before she heard any more, the leaves flying forgotten as she rounded the corner.

 

  
~~

             Stiles jogged up the steps past the crush of the crowd, hooking a hand on the banister and using it to skip the bottom three steps. An incessant stream of "Pardon Me," "Excuse Me," and "Coming through!" burst from his lips as he streaked down the hallway, apologizing at every impact. He skidded into the Pre-Calc room, nearly tripping over an extended pair of legs before he made it to the seat behind Scott.

 

             "OhmigodScott, You're not gonna believe it! There's a new girl in my AP Lit class, Allison Moion, and she's-" The deluge of words ebbed away to a slow trickle as he double took and finally looked up. "A  very nice young lady who I have nothing but the utmost respect for." He gave her a mummified attempt of a smile and slowly dragged his feet to the seat that would put him directly between her and Scott. His best friend gave him a look of perturbed confusion, while the young woman in question hid her grin behind her notebook.

 

             "I thought you weren't taking adderall anymore..."

 

             "What? Of course not! I haven't even had any in the house since I was twelve. Speaking of super top secret stuff that happened when I was twelve-"

 

             "Wh- Stiles, not here at school!"

 

             "That's never stopped us before, we just have to be quiet- Oh! No, no, not the peanut incident."

 

             "Then, what?" Scott frowned.

 

             "Oh, I don't know, the _other_ life changing, deep dark secret that I only trust you and Doc Deaton with?" Stiles hissed, barely audible."Well, and Dad, but he was the one who told- nevermind! About that... Batman thing." When Scott shrugged in incomprehension, Stiles rolled his eyes and bared his teeth in a mock snarl. His eyes flashed amber for a split second as he mimed cartoonish scratching. He more resembled a hazel-eyed tyrannosaurus than the werewolf he meant to imply.

 

             "Okay, what about it?"

 

             "Oh my GOD, Scott, how would you survive without me? She's a Batman too! Well, Batwoman, Batgirl? I don't know if she swings which way. Maybe she's Wonder Woman? No, no, maybe she's more like the Tora Olafsdotter type, all sugar and sweet up front but actually pretty powerful." Stiles continued to ramble as he tried to piece together who exactly the new student equated to while the gears turned in Scott's head.

 

             "Wait, you mean she's a Wer-" Stiles hushed him with a desperate scramble at Scott's hoodie. His best friend wrinkled his nose and batted Stiles' hands away. "... Wait, really? Cool!" Allison sat up straight, her eyes widening. She dared not look directly back at first, but gave into temptation as the teacher distracted the students with her entrance, and looked back to see a warm smile on Scott's face. She found herself smiling as well, biting her lip as she looked away. Stiles looked between the two in horrified disbelief.

 

             "What!? No! No, not necessarily cool!" Stiles writhed in his seat until another of their Lit Classmates approached her, "Scott, what if the Moion bat family decides that I'm pretty much rogues gallery material and decides to possibly eat both of us AND my dad for dinner?" She frowned, looking resolutely out the window a second before re-joining the conversation with Lynne about their Tennyson assignment. Scott's smile dropped as well.

 

             "I thought you said were- ugh fine, don't manhandle me again, -batmen- didn't eat people or other batmen?" The surrounding students either rolled their eyes or ignored the usual flavor of nerdy conversation from the pair.

 

             "Okay maybe eat is exaggerating the general death and dismemberment, but it's a possibility."

 

             "She doesn't look like she'd eat us..."

 

             "Yeah, well, no one thought that Loki would aerate Phil Coulson's spine, she might like gargling entrails for all I know!"

 

             "Dude, not cool! You can't be sure of that right off." Scott's frown deepened.

 

             "Well, I don't want to get Jossed! Me good Stiles, fire bad, I don't wanna die a virgin!" He continued a bit louder, "Not that, um... I'm actually a virgin, totally not. Yeah." He glanced around. Danny rolled his eyes at Stiles' wink. The battle to make Danny blush was lost yet again, but the war was far from over.

 

             "Uh huh." Scott shuffled his papers around while stiles turned in his seat to entreat him.

 

             "Dude, shut up, not the actual important part of that. the -dying- bit of that was kind of what I wanted to draw your attention to, as in _I don't want to die!_ "

 

             "If you -please- Mister Stillinski. Pythagoras and Aryabhata may be long dead, but you are in no immediate danger of following in their footsteps, and from the looks of it in any positive way either. In fact, why you start collecting the homework while I start the notes?" Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times, still contorted behind his desk. Mrs. Finnegan stared him down, only moving to raise her eyebrows. Stiles grumbled under his breath and clambered out of his chair. He circled Scott's desk until the seating arrangement forced him away. When he looked back, he caught sight of (the discomfortingly lycanthropic) Allison smiling shyly over Scott's pen as he handed it to her.

 

_Oh my God, I'm going to die._

 

  
~~

             “Hello.”

             "Hey, butthead, how’s the case going?”

             “Fine, why did you call?” He paced towards the corner, tossing a takeout box as he did.

             “What, I can’t bug my little brother?”

             “You only say stuff like that when you’re going to do something I don’t like.”

             “All right, you’ve got me. I'm going back to Beacon Hills." Laura frowned at the silence, knowing her brother's movement died with the words leaving her lips. The utter stillness tempted her to check if the call had dropped.

             "I know." Derek levied the two words like an accusation, leaning against the hotel table. Laura sighed through her nose, her jaw tightening.

             “If there’s a chance he’s lucid- I mean, he’s family Derek, almost all we have left. Between this and the deer head bullshit, I would rather be there.”

             “At least four packs in that area are migrating-”

             “Kate’s pack included, I know... I know, Derek.” Derek’s mouth felt like sand. Laura bit her lip and forged ahead. “If he’s lucid but recovering, he won’t be able to defend himself. If anything that’s all the more reason to be there. I’ll be careful.” she promised, Derek heard the smile in her tone. “Last I checked I was a little better at wolf control than you were.”

             “Yeah, just wolves though. Skinwalkers are close enough to Beacon Hills that-” Laura scoffed.

             “Oh, please, Derek, we’re not gonna have another Bee Cave thing. I’m just going to be a niece visiting her sick uncle, not going into the woods and down the dell. I’m pretty sure the big bad wolf is all I have to worry about there.”

             “Mmm.”

             “I don’t,” She licked her lips, trying not to worry them, “think Peter knew. I didn’t until you told me. I’m not gonna tell him either.”

             Silence.

             “Derek...”

             Derek let his eyes unfocus, the hotel carpet’s pattern blending together.

             “That’s not,” Derek’s stone faced silence flared briefly, “That’s not why I don’t want you to go.”

             “Aww, little brother needs a hand cleaning an old warehouse out?”

             “ _No._ ”

             “Speaking of, are you almost finished with our eight legged friend’s tag-along there?” Derek looked up at the tail of a zip tie poking out from the young woman’ coat sleeve. Her duct tape gag hadn’t so much as wiggled since she fell asleep.

             “Almost. The Drider should be getting restless, I’ll let her go once I take him down.” The girl whipped her face up to meet his eyes. He didn’t know if she would understand when she was older. Part of him didn’t care; he had a job to do.

             “Just be safe.”

             “Don’t worry, Derek, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll see you soon.”

             “Allright. See you soon.”

             They never actually said goodbye.

 

~~

             "Look, _she_ is very nice, I get that, I even apologized to her directly, remember?" Stiles bounced on a couple steps to catch up with his sour-faced friend. He did not look forward to helping Scott through his chemistry notes if this mood prevailed.

             "Then why are we still talking about this?" Scott grumbled.

             "Because, _hello_ , her entire pack is back in town too! I could smell them on her when I apologized." Stiles spread his arms out, heedless of his backpack swinging around. "She's not the alpha, she can hope in one hand that her dad doesn't use my bones to decorate his mantelpiece and make goo-goo eyes at you in the other, but he's gonna be the one to decide if this one-wolf-man-pack gets to live until Christmas." Scott's expression wavered at that. Stiles fell silent, ruminating on his current life expectancy.

             “Does she really make goo goo eyes at me?”

             “Ohmygod _shut up!_ So not the main thing to be wondering here! I’ve been able to take out a stray hunter or two for your scrawny, asthmatic ass, but an entire pack of wolves complete with an Alpha? I’d be kibble in four point two seconds, even if the Lupine Lady of your Dreams didn’t take part.”

             "So, she wouldn't have much of a say at all?" Stiles extended his head towards Scott as he pressed his lips flat.

             "Uh, not likely! She might be able to vote, but last I checked pack dynamics weren't exactly republics -or- democracies. Kind of more like totalitarian dictatorships with small chances of overthrowing whoever played the part of a fuzzier Mussolini, usually with lots of furry death."

             "Yeah, but you don't _know_. Have you asked your dad?"

             "Well, duh, but mom never really talked about that stuff to him, he’s human, he wouldn't have understood the way I would have. I didn't get to go to little werewolf school, remember? They didn't know if I was a werewolf or not yet."

             "Yeah... hey," Scott began delicately, Stiles braced himself at the soft tone of voice. "Your mom... she was an alpha, right?" Stiles hummed affirmatively. "How come you're not? You said she got it when your grandpa... Yeah." Scott winced, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sorry."

             "It's okay," Stiles lied, scuffing a shoe on a rock and sending it rolling away. "I asked Dad and Doc Deaton a few years ago. Dad didn't..." His father had swallowed his words and asked about his progress report. "Doc said it might've been because I hadn't turned yet."

 

             They walked on, Scott re-shouldered his backpack and kept his eyes on the sidewalk.

 

             "Didn't they used to live here? The Moions I mean."

             "Yeah, something like six or seven years ago. Probably got scared off. Between the Hale fire and how mom..." Stiles trailed off at the sight of the police cruiser in the driveway.

             "Hey, Dad."

             "Hi son, Scott." The sheriff gave them a distracted smile over the vandalism papers in his hand. He took a second glance at the guilty slope of Scott's shoulders and the way Stiles looked anywhere but his eyes. "You boys okay?" He hedged, hoping for anything but another peanut incident.

             "We were talking about the Hale fire, and mom." Stiles didn't let it linger, his mouth tightening. "The Moions are back. As in, the Moion pack is back."

 

             Ashton Stillinski slowly filed the papers away into the appropriate folder without looking up.

 

             "Let's get inside." Maybe another legume incident wouldn’t have been so bad.

 

  
~~

             "Is your mother going to be okay? Should we call her here?"

             "Huh? Oh, no, she's got a double shift. Peter Hale started waking up, so it's been a little crazy." Scott settled down at the table before tensing. "Wait... She'd be safe at the Hospital, right? The Moions wouldn't go for her first, would they? Oh god, I-" Stiles stopped his mad dash for the door with an outstretched hand.

             "No, probably not. They might go after Peter Hale though. He was a hunter, after all. You should give her a call before sundown." Stiles picked at his lower lip, glancing at his phone's screen for the third time that minute. "No reply on the mountain ash yet."

             "We should be good, I re-stocked a while ago. Scott, you said Peter Hale?" Ashton made sure to pour his cup of coffee steadily, watching the bubbles continue to swirl as the Stiles-mandated-splenda dissolved. He hoped his son wouldn't comment on his heart rate, he could at least promise it wasn't because of the coffee. Scott tilted his head at the tension in the room.

             "Uh, yeah? He started waking up last week, muttering crazy stuff and sleeping a lot, but that's about it." Ashton's grip tightened on the mug handle.

             "What kind of stuff?"

             "Dad..."

              Scott glanced between Stiles and the Sheriff before continuing.

              "Just," He glanced at them again, "just stuff about fire and thunder or something. He wasn't making a lot of sense." Stiles snorted, giving him a derisive smile and pocketed his phone.

              "Scott, his family died in a freaking fire and he went into a coma because he went back in to save them while their house played burn-ey jenga, I'd say that makes a lot of sense." Scott rolled his eyes.

             "Well, duh, but I mean he wasn't like, forming full sentences or anything, he couldn't even say his name. He just kept mumbling about loud noises and fire and stuff."

 

             "So If I asked him-"

              "Dad, no... We can't...." Stiles licked his lips and dragged his palm down his mouth. "It's not gonna help. We have stuff to deal with now. And even that aside, if he’s innocent, we- we just can’t, Dad." Scott's brows furrowed as he watched Ashton's shoulders sink.

              "Uh, Mister Stillinski? Stiles, what- oh... Oh my God, you think he..." Scott shifted restlessly, the weight of such a concept making his stomach sink. How long had Mister Stillinski dwelled on that unanswered question? The lines in his profile and the slope of his back answered that, leaving a burning cold feeling somewhere in Scott’s ribcage.

              "We don't know. He had an alibi, but there’s no way to know, not really." Mister Stillinski finished, bringing the warm cup closer to himself before he turned to face the boys. The unspoken yet left furrows in his forehead. Stiles’ mouth tightened at the wan expression. Scott chewed on his lip and tugged at his hoodie sleeve.

              “What, um... What were those files you had earlier, Mr. Stillinski?”

             Ashton glanced at him to spite the twist of guilt, or the claws his son so clearly held back with every flex of his hands.

             “Normally I’d tell you to mind your business, but if the Moions are here, it may just be related.” Stiles’s head snapped up in time to see his father toss the file onto the kitchen table.

             “This was found on the Hale House. or more accurately, the Hale ruins.”

             “Oh, _gross_ , who does that?” Scott grimaced at the glossy photos. A chain suspended a doe’s crudely torn head from an exterior door handle. Congealed blood spattered down the tarnished kickplate and over the mouldering welcome mat.

             “Your friendly neighborhood psychopath, Decapitation Man.” Stiles sniped, arching an eyebrow and earning a shove.

             “Okay, so werewolves are prime suspects or whatever, but if it was, what does that even mean? Does that have some kind of... Werewolfy symbolism or some crap?”

             “I have no idea.” Stiles’ phone beeped. The display reading ‘Message from Doctor Cryptic’ earned a tense smile. “I might know who to ask, though.”

 

  
~~

             “Awful far from your usual stomping ground, aren’t you?”

             “Just visiting.” Laura kept her eyes on the reflective surfaces of her car and the camera dome above the gas pump. She could see three of them, but she couldn’t trust there weren’t more. Dusk had yet to fall, and a few cars passed by every few seconds. Her nine millimeter felt heavier in her jacket holster, she felt more aware of it and of the easiest way to rip it out to fire an aconite laced bullet between his eyes. Armed with that comfort at least, she slowly turned and met Chris Moion’s gaze. He gave a brief laugh, his teeth catching what light the street lamp had to offer.

             “No goodie basket for your sick uncle then?”

             “No, I’m much more of the hatchet type. It makes cutting things in half a lot easier.” His eyes flickered red. Laura’s mouth twitched with a withheld smirk at that.

             “Well, you have so little left to protect, it makes sense you’d be a little prickly about it.” The smile she wore cut her lips open, an icy glint from her eyes promising pain.

             “Call my protective streak family honor if you like, I’d define it, but I don’t think you’d understand.”

             By the time Chris snarled in her face, she had the barrel of the gun pressed over his heart. The spice and forest smell of aconite made Chris’ sneering smile return.

             “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

             “You should ask your sister.” Laura leveled, the furious, but steady beat of her heart sent a chill of uncertainty down his spine.

             “She’s not here to explain, indulge me.” The gas nozzle clicked off, only the beta wolves around them twitched. “Nice trigger discipline, hunter, I and my family appreciate your steady hand.”

             “Mine would appreciate it if you just left us the hell alone.”

             “As long as you do the same.” His mouth set, though he let his questions lay unanswered for now. She watched him, steel in the blue of her unwavering stare. Without taking a step back, she opened her jacket. Laura holstered her gun, snapped the strap into place and let her hands hover at her sides. Chris took a slow step back, hands in his pockets. She watched the betas file along behind Chris, but remained steadfast.

             “Are we done here, Moion?”

             Chris canted his head to the side, watching her.

             “For a lone Hale, outnumbered five to one with an Alpha present, you have an impressive amount of courage. You’d make a fine wolf.”

             Laura’s eyes narrowed, her fingers curling into a fist.

             “I said, are we _done_?”

             Chris smiled, nodding once.

             “Take care, Miss Hale.”

             She stonily watched them leave and did not answer in kind.

  
~~

             “I don’t know if he just didn’t know or if he didn’t want to tell me. Maybe you should have asked him.” Scott plucked at his lacrosse net. “He kept deflecting like, all day, too.”

             “Ugh, but he’s your boss! And he knows you know about my um, inherited awesomeness.” Stiles grinned at a nurse, much to her passing confusion.

             “I dunno, I guess he didn’t think it was his business. He said we should stay out of it.” Stiles groaned at him, sprawling across the hospital bench in despair. “Yeah, but what isn’t he saying by saying that?” Scott only shrugged, playing with his phone, and thusly missed his mother standing in front of them with her hands on her hips.

             “Uh, hi, Ms. McCall!” Stiles nudged Scott’s shoe with his own, hissing out the side of his mouth. “What did you _do_?”

             “Wh- nothing! Ah-um... Hi, mom... What’s up?”

             Melissa narrowed her eyes. Both boys swallowed.

             “What did I tell you boys about getting involved with that kind of stuff at the hospital?”

             “Wh- We’re not-”

             “I don’t have to have your particular skills to know when someone is lying, Stiles.”

             “Heh, you make me sound like Liam Neeson.”

             “ _Stiles._ ”

             “Sorry, sorry! But, you have to admit, this is kind of inevitable! I mean, we’re safe about it.  We do our best to be, anyway.” He got an intrigued glance from the nurse who had passed by earlier. He waited until she left, jiggling his knee and drumming on the armrest.

             “Safety is kinda why I’m here right now.” He bit his lip and stood up finally, playing with his hoodie string. “I kind of need to know what’s going on with... all the people connected. I don’t want to start anything... I gotta keep you safe too.” Melissa’s stare softened.

             “That’s very sweet of you, Stiles.”

             “Well, you’re... you know.” He blushed to the tips of his ears. Her eyes crinkled in a smile as Scott snickered.

             “What, gonna say pa-”

             “Don’t say it, oh my god, you’ll sound like my grandpa. That is an association I do _not_ need in my life.” Stiles scrubbed his face, much to Melissa’s amusement.

             A woman with dark hair breezed by them, an earthy smell clinging to the leather jacket she wore. Scott continued to tease him as the bitter, slightly spicy smell pervaded his senses. Stiles couldn’t decipher Scott’s exact words, too intently focused on the dangerous aroma and the bright blue of her eyes. His lips parted slightly as she smiled at him, his blush having yet to recede. Fate was merciful in at least the note that she already passed Stiles when the lingering scent overpowered him, his own eyes flashing gold in the low hospital lighting. Melissa laid a hand on his arm when his posture threatened a recoil. Her brows drew in as she followed his gaze to the young woman approaching the far counter, Scott’s scattered attention focused to a pinpoint with that expression on his mother’s face.

             “That’s Laura Hale. She’s got to have at least a pound of wolfsbane on her.” Stiles said in a hush, Scott instantly stood up at the news and craned around Stiles to watch her speak to the nurse at the desk. Stiles moved to take the long route through the hospital halls to Peter’s room, but Melissa still held onto his arm. Her concern battled with a warning expression, making Stiles twitch with nerves. He reached up and gave her arm a squeeze before removing it from his own.

             “We’re not gonna try to get into any trouble or anything.”

             “I know, but trouble tends to find you two anyway. If she’s a hunter like the rest of her family was, you should keep a wide berth.”

             “Uh,” Stiles frowned slightly in consternation, “That’s... kind of the plan?” Melissa gave him the patented Mother stare of imminent repercussions.

             “I just saw you give her the Lydia Martin stare under all that anxiety.”

             “I... That was the wolfsbane! And I could never evict Lydia from the little birdhouse in my soul.” He muttered, indignation parading in his pout. He received another portentous stare, to which he responded with a swift getaway rather than proper conversation. Melissa sighed, picked up the abandoned lacrosse net, but took care to hover near the workstation where she could nose in on the security closet from time to time. Being part of a pack half-led by a teenage werewolf was never a stress free experience. She made a point to at least keep an ear to the ground, for all their sakes.

 

~~

             Stiles and Scott did their best to head towards the general direction of Peter Hale’s room without being noticed; which, of course made any hospital staff who saw them incredibly suspicious of the usual trouble makers. An even toned conversation piqued his notice, though he couldn’t yet make out the exact words. Stiles winced and backpedaled at the smell of coffee, a pilfered cookie, the ambiguous mammalian identifier he classified as human and the distant acrid trace of gunpowder. _Dad_. He barely yanked Scott back around the corner in time. They scuffled in an attempt to not tumble right into his view anyway, but luckily the hall corner only garnered a glance from the sheriff. Stiles let out a relieved breath, head tilted skyward as he thanked whatever powers that be for werewolf reflexes. He shushed Scott’s irritated complaints with a look, turning slightly to better focus on the conversation around the corner and deep down the hall. Stiles missed her arrival, and found himself strangely grateful.

             “... very kind of you. Do you really think he’s in some sort of danger?”

             “He’s had his enemies. But mostly, someone else convinced me to do it.” Ashton confessed.

             “I see.”

             “Dell, could you go get us some coffee? Take your time.” The deputy rose with a frown. Stiles once more counted luck that the deputy took the route Laura emerged from instead of making him scramble for the nearest broomcloset.

             “Who convinced you?”

             “A friend.” Deaton, Stiles guessed.

             “Kind of them... Did he tell you why?”

             “Not exactly, but given that doe’s head business, I wasn’t entirely hesitant.”

             “So what were you hesitant about?” Stiles strained to hear, shushing scott again.

             “I just have a lot of unanswered questions.”

             “Mm. That’s life I guess. So do I.”

             “And that’s part of why I was willing to have someone manned here. I’d like to avoid more loss if I can, even if it’s not mine.” Stiles wished he could see their expressions, though he could faintly hear Laura’s heartbeat rise. Stiles knew his father left some doubts unstated, primarily those of some of his own department’s handling of the Hale fire. The Stillinskis left a lot about the Hale fire unstated, but Stiles had an inkling that wouldn’t be the case anymore.

             “Even though you think-”

             “What I suspect doesn’t change the law, and I aim to keep to it.”

             “Thanks...” She tried to continue, but the words stuck in her throat.

             “Do you have anything to add about the, uh, vandalism?”

             “H- oh, no. I haven’t even gone there yet, I wanted to... I don’t know what I wanted to do, but I didn’t want to go back there yet.” She took a steadying breath, Stiles heard the chuff of a hand skating across leather as she crossed her arms. “And you? any luck?” her voice dropped, Stiles guessed her eyes did, too.

             “I’ve been questioning a suspect, they have a history of petty crime.” Stiles heard his father’s restraint. As much as her posture invited him to divulge the name of the Moion’s employee, Ashton guarded his words. A silence dredged between them, making Stiles lean further towards the hall, all too aware of his shoe squeaking.

             “For what it’s worth, Sheriff, I’m sorry, about your wife.” Stiles imagined him watching her carefully, almost hoping for deceit. Stiles heard none, and his father seemed to reach the same conclusion.

             “Me too. About your family, I mean. My deputy should be back soon. Goodbye, Ms. Hale.”

             “Laura.”

             “Okay then, Laura. Take care.” Stiles couldn’t resist any more, peeping around the corner. A thin smile threatened to break away from her face, though she let her guarded posture fall to reach for the door.

             “You too,” She glanced at his name plate, “Ashton.” Stiles was too distracted trying to see her expression to see his father spotting him until it was too late. He winced and didn’t bother to hide, though he wanted to sink into the wall with all his might. Laura caught the stormy irritation on Ashton’s face and followed his glare to Stiles.

             “Your son?” She guessed off of the Sheriff’s change in stance.

             “My grey-hair-giver is more accurate.” His dour expression and Stiles’s resulting cower made her laugh. She gave Stiles a grin before opening the door.

             “Whatever he’s done, I promise you my little brother’s worse. Have a good day, Sheriff.” He grunted an acknowledgement (but not agreement,) and strode the seventy or so meters towards the head that just disappeared around the corner. Even the snap of the door didn’t distract Stiles from his impending doom. He shoved Scott away, though Scott only barely managed to duck into the nearest room before Mister Stillinski rounded the corner and grabbed Stiles by his hood. He dragged his son a few paces away, to spite Stiles’ flailing.

             “Exactly what do you think you’re playing at?”

             “Ack! I’m just, um, loitering? I’m allowed to loiter in public places without those signs, right? I mean, I don’t see a sign that-”

             “Stiles, she’s a hunter from a dynasty of hunters and there’s a full pack in town. I don’t want you anywhere near her or where she used to live, understand me?”

             “Totally, I understand, yep-”

             “Where’s Scott?”

             “Errr... hanging out with his mom? He left his lacrosse net. At um, at her station." At least the second half wasn't a lie, as he heard from Scott's muttered curse.

             “Scott, are you there?” His voice echoed in the sterile hallway. A distant nurse looked over his clipboard to give Ashton a confused stare, but Stiles could hear Scott’s flinch. Stiles’ father finally turned his stare back to his son.

             “All right, I want you to promise me you won’t go near anything resembling a hunter, not without me, not at night, and not without at least ten of my men backing you up, understood? If that pack thinks you’re involved with any way-”

             “Dad, okay! I get it, I wasn’t even planning- jeez! I can’t be unprepared for anything. And werewolves totally count as ten men.”

             “Stiles, you’re-”

             “Dad, I’m a _werewolf_.” he leveled finally, brushing his father’s hand away in exasperation. “I’m going to have to deal with some of this stuff, not just to keep me safe, but to keep _all_ of us safe. I don’t have the luxury of being normal. Sometimes I’m going to have to do stuff that scares you so I don’t have to worry about any of us dying. I’m not going to look for trouble, but I still have to keep an eye on it.” A promise laced itself into his answer, but the defeated sigh from the Sheriff made Stiles feel worse. Ashton didn’t know if he wanted his son keeping that kind of promise.

             “I wish I didn’t have to, dad, I really do. I mean, maybe if I wasn’t a werewolf-”

             “Stiles, don’t.” Ashton held up a hand, weighty words threatening to spill from his lips when Stiles suddenly looked back towards Peter Hale’s room. He walked right past his father, head inclined in a wild stare of concentration. He pressed his lips together as his father’s voice seemed to tinnily call to him.

             “Something’s.... Do you smell that?” Stiles didn’t turn with the inquiry, hoping the instincts clawing at his insides were dead wrong. Ashton didn’t want to ask; as though stating it aloud would make true whatever terrible unknown waited down that hallway.

             “Plastic. It’s burning plastic.” Stiles began to sniff, but a luminous flicker halted every movement. “Dad... Dad, run there’s a fire in there, go call nine-one-one.” Stiles’ mind whirled behind his eyes. They glinted gold as he warred with himself. They would never get his answers if he hesitated. He grit his teeth and took off towards them.

             “What? Stiles, what are you doing-”

             “Dad, run, get Scott, he’s in that room.” Stiles pointed without giving a sign of doing the same. Ashton opened his mouth, but the blare of fire alarms cut him off.

             “Dad, _run!_ ” Stiles sprinted right towards the danger, not yet acknowledging that Scott began to follow him instead of running away with his Father. The rapid spread of the fire shot his worries about being seen shifting right out of his mind. The prickle of fangs and the itch of unused strength imbued his stride with inhuman fervor. He nearly skidded before he reached the door, but realized he would just burn himself on the handle and kept running. He turned at the last moment and drove his shoulder into it’s side. Wood and metal shrieked open with the fire alarms, the roar of the fire already prolific and deafening. Stiles coughed ignoring the swelling heat as the sprinklers began to spin to life, though the cones of water did little but turn to steam in the blaze and serve as another barrier to finding the Hales. The sudden smell of burning wolfsbane slammed Stiles down to a knee, though it only flared briefly before crackling away along with the walls under the chemical tang of burning gasoline. Outside, Scott took two hits off of his inhaler, and took a running leap in after his friend to spite the unnatural crashing noises from within. Stiles still bent in a crouch, coughing. He dragged Scott down and out of the smoke.

             He shouted Scott’s name over the din, an arm before his face as he searched for the Hales. Scott squinted going off of memory, and pointed to the corner on the other side of the bed. Stiles paid for Scott’s pains by unceremoniously chucking him over a six foot deep wall of fire and followed close after. Though he saw Scott recollect himself through the strange blue cast of the fire, Stiles faintly heard the thud of an impact and saw Scott crash into the bed and then Peter’s empty wheelchair. With his eyes watering and the glare from the fire pouring around them, he couldn’t sense what had hit his friend, his nose full of smoke and the bitter smell burning of linoleum. He sprang a step and hit what must have been the fire-heated cabinet. Part of the ceiling collapsed above him, sending him against the wall. There was a sharp movement of air just to his side before the debris hit the floor, but it was a sudden whiff of blood made his stomach churn. A gurgle met his ears even as he groped towards the source, followed by a muted, male cry. He didn’t recognize the voice, but that thought shattered along with the glass beside them. The blunt clamor faded with the last few tinkles of glass, leaving only the soft sounds of two injured humans and the omnipresent crackle of flames. He felt Scott grab his arm; prompting him to take it and push Scott towards the cry he heard. Stiles reached towards the rapidly melting wheelchair, ignored the sizzle of his own hands, and threw it through the remaining glass. He found the source of the bloody, wet noises and lifted the curled form up. He helped Scott clamber over the window before following. His claws dug into the flame peppered windowsill for leverage as he lifted his own charge out of the path of the stalagmite shards and then raked down the brick outside. He stumbled farther than he thought he could manage and set his burden down. When he saw Scott dizzily tending to a bloody wound just below Peter’s ribcage, he turned his attention to the nearly still, bloodstained frame of Laura Hale.

             “Somebody help... Somebody help us!” Scott’s hoarse voice rang out.

             He knelt beside her and sought some source of the blood spattering from her lips as he eased her onto her side. The trace scent of aconite twisted his queasy stomach further. Her lack of resistance, or even any movement other than her shuddering, made Stiles’ chest clench. She watched him with wide eyes as she fought to speak around the blood in her mouth. It streaked down her tan cheeks, making her hair stick in clumps. Stiles bit his lip and tried to clear the strands behind her ears with a few clumsy brushes of his knuckles.

             “You’re St- Stilluh-” She coughed and rasped for air, to spite Stiles ripping his hoodie off and trying vainly to clean her face. She couldn’t quite make it to every syllable, contorting in agony.

             “There’s doctors, There’s doctors everywhere here, it’s a fucking hospital, hang on, just hang on.” He begged, frantic as he found her completely unblemished save the red she endlessly choked on.

             “You’re a-”

             “Yes, I’m a... Doesn’t matter, it doesnt-” He stuttered out, still not able to breathe to spite leaving the flames. He grasped her hand, but she squeezed harder than he did. “I promise you can even shoot me later, but hang on, okay? There’s got to be help coming!” She laughed then keened in pain, tears streaming down from either side of her eyes. Her fingers curled around the slack sleeve of his hoodie.

             “Y’know m’a hunter.”

             “Yeah, I know. You probably,” He swallowed a lump in his throat, unable to shift back. “You probably shouldn’t talk, just hang on.” He kept trying to will his eyes to stop glowing, to make his claws and fangs recede. He wasn’t sure if he should blame the aconite still clinging to her or something else he didn’t want to face.

             “Why?”

             “Wh-why what?” He managed,  still attempting to swipe the stains away, but now he just seemed to be spreading it.

             “Ev’ryth’ng, why try?” She grated out, growing paler by the second as every cough weakened.

             “It was just... the right thing to do.” He half lied. She laughed again, softer now.

             “Y’should tell... tell m’br’ther...”  her breath wheezed with every movement of her lips.

             “Okay... okay I’ll tell him whatever you want, what is it? Laura? Miss Hale? Come on, Laura, what do you want me to tell your brother? You gotta tell me!” She silently moved her lips, no breath passing between them.

             A paramedic already took over Peter’s well being, letting Scott stumble to Stiles’ side. Scott watched her eyes grow still, though Stiles kept asking and asking what she wanted him to say. Scott grabbed Stiles by the arm when another paramedic approached, but couldn’t pry Stiles’ hand from Laura’s until she was nearly upon them.

             Stiles let Scott lead him away from the crowds, his eyes aimlessly tracking the ground before his feet. A numb chill washed over him as he crossed grass, asphalt, dirt and scorch marks. His breath jittered in his lungs, his clawed hands skating over the fuzz of his hair. He knew logically that his injuries had healed a sparse ten seconds after he’d jumped out the window. Hiding between the hospital and forest with Scott, however, he felt his chest constricting as though the smothering fumes still shrouded his lungs in fire and wolfsbane. Scott asked him something, an urgent hand on his arm, then the back of his neck as he fought to even breathe. Another tug on his arm finally snapped his threadbare humanity. A pained growl split from his throat, his hand brushing Scott’s away until he had room to spring free of his friend’s reach and into the copse of trees. He ran far faster than Scott hoped to, giving in to the instinct to run from the blood and charred air.

             Deep in the preserve, Stiles felt his lungs burning from exertion instead of brimstone, and finally began to slow down. He slid down against the trunk of a Cedar tree and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, hoping no one would find him for hours.

 


	2. Bisclavret Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long, I have fallen out of the Teen Wolf fandom, and writing now is pulling teeth out of a depression decayed head. While I seek therapy, if nothing else, y'all can find out how this tale turns out.
> 
>  
> 
> If I can't give you the fic, I can at least give you the notes.

No Such Thing as a Bisclavret

Chapter 2 - D’Allumage

 

“I could hear everything going wrong in her, she wasn’t under anything either. it was like...” twitching hands picked at the rescued lacrosse net, blunt fingertips catching the nylon at each impact. At least this way he wouldn’t pick at the drying red on his shirt. “It was like hearing a bolt tear through a jet engine, wrecking everything inside.” Scott’s sullen face faded to contemplation and observance. Stiles wished the hospital could manage silence, at least in this far corner. It felt disrespectful, almost, for the medical equipment to carry on beeping cheerfully when he’d seen Laura Hale’s lifeblood trickle down her cooling cheek.

“Yeah, I...” Scott’s dry tongue scraped the roof of his mouth. “I guess I’d bolt if I could hear that too.” Stiles squirmed with a frown until Scott piped up again. “I don’t think anyone saw you, though.” He got a snort for an answer, along with plastic creaking ominously.

“I figured not, given the gigantic wall of flame on center stage. Fires, such divas, am I right?” His voice strained, the joke withering until Scott nudged his friend’s foot with his own. Hot Rod Lincoln broke the thistled silence, Scott huffing in his usual protest that Stiles drives a Jeep. He made a face at his friend and answered,

“Hey, Dad.”

Stiles let the net thunk onto the clinic armrest, plucking at a loose white tuft of nylon.

“Has anything happened?”

“No, not since you last called."

The hesi

 

Yeah.... No, Dad it was.... Yeah, later.” He intoned, swallowing thickly. Scott frowned and nudged Stiles’ foot again. Stiles glanced at him but his brow furrowed before he could properly acknowledge Scott’s gesture. BLAH BLAH BLAH DEAD DOCTOR

 

SHERRIFF STILLINSKI CALLS DEREK TO ID LAURA

 

STILES WATCHES HIM WARILY BUT I S MORE SUBTLE THAN DERPSCOTT

 

"Stiles, are you sure we should be here?"  Scott earned no answer, his best friend creeping through the roadside brush

~~~

 

  There's another body, one of the head doctors fell over the railing, presumably in the chaos. Derek returns to Beacon hills and stirs up hella trouble for Stiles in the process of thanking him in front of earshot of Victoria Moion. All trouble all the time, keeps showing up when they go places. Victoria and Chris talk to Stiles, Derek keeps hold of Stiles’ arm until stiles tells him

“I will -handle- this, go lurk in a corner or something, Sir Creeps a Lot. If I need a Knight in Sour armor,    I’ll scream for you.” Stiles negotiates pack shit, Chris Moion defines what they mean when they say ‘People’ because they mean wolf and human alike. Derek creeperstares at stiles and leaves. Derek shows up in Stiles’ bedroom that night and demands to know what they talked about.  Peter relapses. Derek thinks Scott is the beta who left scratch marks on the hospital wall. Derek talking to Peter convo. Investigations, Stiles snoops with Scott to find out what started the fire but is always romantic loser for Allison and starts seeing her. Found gasoline but no ignition source, Laura wasn't dead from exposure to flames or anything, her internal organs had been crushed from the inside, no bones broken. Doctor revealed to have same injuries, but doctor's keycard was used AFTER he died.    

"one of those chemistry burner things?"

"Scott, we JUST had chem like an hour ago, it's a Bunsen Burner and no, I would have smelled the fuel from it, all I smelled was diesel. Besides, that would have been clunky as hell.

Maybe a... a brulee torch? Wait no, those are mostly Butane fueled too..."

"... What."

"I've been watching food network, leave me alone."

New rogue beta starts fucking around in Beacon Hills on full moon, Derek sees Scott flinch away from wolfsbane and pick it up with a tissue/whatever. Derek chases after Scott on that full moon and gets bowled over by a Werewolf with gold eyes. Stiles confronts Derek in public without revealing anything to prevent both Derek from hurting him or scott and forcing him to wolf out. (and asks "WHY ARE YOU MAKING MY LIFE HARD. Trust me, I am NOT the one in danger here, jsyk" which makes Derek side eye him and suspect Scott even more. Derek comments "No Such Thing as a Bisclavret") someone is watching them, stiles stops and starts looking around, says he just feels weird and does not specify that he heard something. Include comment about Derek staring at him and comparing feeling Another incident and Stiles' jeep gets punctured by Derek's crossbow multiple times.  Stiles demands he fix it. Scott tries to cover for Alisson at first but ultimately admits he found misplaced gas can that had been used recently. Stiles mentions they'd gotten a lawn care place, no reason to have used gas recently. "bing" conversation. (WHAT KIND OF HUNTER DOESN'T USE GOOGLE it came with my phone OH MY GOD DO YOU NOT WATCH SUPERNATURAL, GET WITH THE TIMES DEREK) Stiles starts telling Derek he's a werewolf. [Set it up like Derek saying “What, it’s not like YOU’RE a werewolf” and stiles being offended. “What!? Is it that hard to believe?”] People involved in legal stuff start dying, people who covered up Hale arson. Blackmail Danny into hacking to see the key card access log and cameras, use Derek shirtlessly fixing stiles' messed up jeep as bartering chip. All the footage of the use were deleted beyond even the recoverable memory unless they get the disks. Disaster strikes when they go to get the hd. Derek goes off to look up other lines of interest. Stiles goes with Scott who uses hospital access to find out more about victims and get to HD. Get busted by Deputy X, Stiles awkwardly asks how Deputy X’s sister is doing after Deputy X comments on his “I support single moms” tee. Deputy X is not amused. End Scene is Kate & her cronies "returning" to Beacon Hills. Kate watches Stiles & Scott getting chastized & ultimately forgiven by Papa Stillinski and smiles.

. AT SOME POINT INCLUDE A FRUSTRATED NURSE GETTING CHASTIZED FOR DOCUMENTING SOMETHING INCORRECTLY.

 

 

  
END CH 2

 

ravitailler Ch3: Add more Derek/Stiles friendship. Peter goes missing from hospital. Derek tracks clues to 1 of Kate’s 2 betas and kills him without remorse. Papa Stillinski reluctantly asks Stiles for help in finding Peter (scott insulted he's not asked, is called an asthmatic derpy bird), stiles says the scent is "all wrong, something is up." Derek patrols, witnesses a dude with a Warhammer keychain getting dragged off into the night. Shoots at the wolf with crossbow but the wolf keeps running to spite a hit. Derek and Stiles bump into one another in Macy's while Allison, Lydia and Kate shop there," HELLOOOOOOOO DARLING you know that shade of deep rose is just not your color. Though it would look nice if you hung out with me on the full moon, I'm totally an autumn wolf." Derek is a stripper conversation. Derek not forthcoming with info as usual, knows about another presumed dead body (the dismembered warhammer playing IT) but has no intention of letting them know. Derek slams Stiles' head into the perfume register. "You KNOW what that was for!" Stiles awkwardly waves at Lydia. Scott and Stiles get into a tiff over Scott siding with Allison and generally being an obstacle with the investigation because of thinking with southern head, yell at each other in the forest looking for trail, find a severed arm wearing a polo sleeve. Stiles' dad on patrol gets between Moion house and preserve in response to a severed leg and Wolf!Stiles wards off the Rogue in a show of ferocity that even takes Derek aback. Were!Stiles gets opportunity to kill/bite Derek, but does not. Rogue comes after Derek again, Human!Stiles yanks him into his jeep and drives off.  Kate starts driving a wedge between Scott and Allison because Scott is a human member of Stiles' pack. Someone Cayenne bombs the Moion property and tries to make it look like Scott did it. Stiles intercepts Derek because of the severed limbs that circle their house, suspects Derek cayenne bombed the Moions and and is increasingly frustrated. Landscaper suspect killed by whoever cayenne bombed the place, chapter ends with stiles tripping over the shredded corpse on their back porch and the moions coming home, Stiles panics and drags Derek inside.

 

[etincelles](http://www.wordhippo.com/what-is/the-meaning-of/french-word-etincelles.html) Chapter 4  Derek says a bunch of his wolfsbane has been stolen, he was coming for the source of it. Stiles non sequiturs asking if it should really be called shiftersbane since it works on all shapeshifters. Derek starts asking him how he knows all this shit and Stiles hears people coming and sets dishwasher off to mask their breathing. movement and heartbeats, then drags Derek down the basement since there's another door out into the yard. Agrees to help Derek find out who's been setting the fires and killing people while stuck in cayenne'd basement stairwell with him. They overhear that Kate hasn't been in the moion pack for six years, has actually been here since before full moon but did not seek Chris out on it, is an alpha and butts heads with Chris. “You wanted the bite, so mom gave it to you and even that gift wasn’t enough. How did you become an alpha, Kate? What else did you take? I need to know... I need to know what else you’ve taken from other people.” Mention of the Moion-Hale treaty and the hales tolerating another "mini-pack." Derek doesn't detect any surprise from Stiles until then. Chris demands to know how she became an alpha.  Kate uses the term "Bisclavret" in derision, Chris doesn't know what she means, Derek's heartbeat goes through the roof and stiles starts heading outside, drags him by his sleeve. Stiles asks what a Bisclavret is, Derek tells him it's a stupid legend. Shit gets hairy, rogue wolf gets shot at by derek when it tries to approach him, Derek ends up shooting stiles in the arm. "You SHOT me!" convo. Stiles has the remaining wolfsbane in Derek's Jacket in his backseat. Derek walks in just as Deaton is finishing wrapping Stiles’ arm. Scott angrily returns jacket. Derek comments about them fighting and scott growls “He’s more important than us being mad at each other, he’s my best friend.” Scott walks out. Derek notes that some of his stuff is missing (aconite bullets) and almost accuses Scott. Stiles DARES him to accuse Scott after SHOOTING STILES. JEEZ DEREK. Derek awkwardly & begrudgingly apologizes. Awk silence. Stiles asks what a Bisclavret is again, Derek tells him the legend. Ends with, “It’s a warning. A werewolf will always bite. They’ll always eventually kill.” Stile meets his eyes and stares evenly, recalling specifically the rescue vs the rogue beta. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Derek doesn’t say anything. Stiles gets phonecall at vet, sheriff's car was firebombed and sheriff is missing.

  
  


brylerCh5:

Stiles having a freak out because dad is missing and internally thinks a pack war is going to be on, makes derek swear an oath to not kill him until after this is all said and done with. Derek comes to Stiles' house because Stiles is kind of one of his only allies about now and shit is going wrong, Derek pieces together that Mrs. Stillinski was a werewolf and the alpha he found dead just before the Hale fire, though Derek never knew. Stiles and Derek have a shouting match when Derek accuses him of hiding this and Stiles accuses him of hiding EVERYTHING, especially the dismembered IT guy. Derek is furious,drags Stiles with him while he tracks Scott down. Derek discovers Stiles is a beta by threatening scott after thinking Mrs. Stillinski bit Scott before she died, and stiles out and out tackles him; fully wolfed out. This is broken up by a fire truck roaring right by them and then Nightmare chasing them down. Stiles saves Derek from the nightmare, Scott saves them both from 2nd of Kate’s cronie betas with Derek’s gun.  Rogue wolf attacked again, this time at the police station Lots of comments on how awkward he is ensues, Derek comments on how Stiles doesn't run like a normal werewolf. Stiles manages to snipe that it's terribly inefficient, even if it feels natural mid drive to the sheriff's office. Last scene is of Kate capturing Derek and Stiles, dragging them to the old Hale shell of a house. Kate reveals she's an alpha because she killed Stiles' Mom for not being willing to kill the Hales, it wasn't actually Peter hale who killed Mama Stillinski ( and turned into the Nightmare because of becoming an alpha with such fury to kill in her/ because some other Supernatural bullshit reason but does not tell them that.) Meant to just bite Laura, taunts Derek about his dead sister. Molests poor Derek in front of Stiles. Stiles pieces together what happened with Kate preying on young Derek. She's going to kill Stiles and taunts him about not being able to save his mother or Laura, and now she's gonna kill Derek for being a hunter as soon as she kills Stiles for consorting with hunters. Chapter ends with derek demanding to know what she did with Peter, She just says she gave him "a little nip"

 

incendie Ch6:  The rogue Beta is Peter who was bitten by Kate during the attack on the hospital, he had gone around and killed all the people who worked with kate to kill his family. Dismembered IT guy was the one who removed the footage for Kate, Attack a the sheriff's office was actually to kill Deputy X who worked with Kate to cover up the arson in exchange for killing his brother in law. Peter killed him for helping Kate. Peter also Cayenne bombed the Moions and killed the landscaper for catching him in the act and seeing him wolf out. Papa Stillinski is unconscious and internally bleeding from being nightmare'd. Peter challenges Kate as an alpha because DUN DUN DUN Kate is no longer a werewolf & weakened from losing the 2 betas she already had. She's the nightmare o noesssss. Peter stole the wolfsbane  from Derek to weaken Kate, it works, but Peter is still too new, fight shit happens with Allison and Scott helping against the nightmare.  Derek drags Scott out of a kick from the nightmare, Kate wheels and rears back to trample Derek and Scott. She shifts to human form to dodge crossbow bolts, asks Allison for her help against Peter, Allison hesitates, so Kate incapacitates Peter and then she thinks she gets Stiles (Mimic Derek getting ganked at the school, but less serious) and is about to trample all the freaking humans so Derek shoots at her with his bullets, Scott launches Aconite vials at her. Kate tosses scott out the freaking wall and then  manages to corner derek, murder in her eyes. Stiles loses his shit and launches himself at her from a higher point and tears her to pieces. In the smoke and shadow of the night, Stiles' eyes glow red.

 

chaleur Ch7. tie up all loose ends etc. Stiles sits next to Derek on the Hale porch in full wolf form, licks his feet, Derek gets grossed out and scowls and Stiles laughs wheezily.”I’m not calling you Bisclavret. Idiot. You don’t have a French bone in your body.” Stiles laughs even harder. “What was so funny about....*facepalm* I hate Teenage Alphas.” Derek gets his face licked for his trouble.  Last scene Peter talks to stiles about the truce that had been in place, SUGGESTIVE EYEBROWS ABOUT ANOTHER TRUCE. Stiles says he’ll consider, perturbed Derek asks why, Stiles informs him that the alpha pack will be coming in a matter of months DUN DUN DAAAH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god if you stuck with this I am so sorry what the hell was I thinking...


End file.
